Kissing Shakespeare

by Pamela Mingle

She didn’t joke about him today. Her eyes looked hard, and I wondered if perhaps the marriage was imminent. Her intended must be really horrid for her to have such a strong aversion to him, I thought.

  She bit off a piece of bread, chewed, and swallowed. “It would have been nice to see my sisters, but I can visit them another time.”

  I nodded, washing down a bite of partridge with ale. If Jennet stayed here, it would be much more difficult for her to communicate with her father, the lugubrious Master Hall. Yet her sudden change of heart seemed strange. She’d seemed so certain before.

  I noticed that Alexander was not present. He hadn’t been at the evening meal last night, either. Curious, I turned to Fulke and asked him if he knew where my uncle was.

  “He’s gone to the horse market in Preston. Every landowner picks up new horseflesh this time of year.” He seemed puzzled. “Does not your father do the same?”

  I gulped. “Aye, he does. I’ve lost track of time since I’ve been away from home for so long.” I nibbled at a strawberry tart and then realized Jennet was speaking to me.

  “Mistress Olivia, how do you progress with your needlework?”

  “Not well, I fear. I need another lesson. Are you busy this afternoon?”

  “I am. Cousin Elizabeth and I will be in the stillroom brewing decoctions and tinctures. On the morrow, mayhap?”

  “I will appreciate your help.”

  Since Stephen’s mysterious departure, I’d given up on everything except Will. So I made a decision. I’d take advantage of this perfect opportunity to search Jennet’s room. Maybe I could learn something about her relationship with Robert Lowry, Privy Council spy.

  After lunch, I excused myself before anyone could ask yet again about Stephen. Hurrying past his chamber, I couldn’t help picturing all the “Stephen” things I knew were there. The stack of books near the bed. The miniature portraits of his parents on his night-stand. Foolscap, an ink jar, and quills scattered over the small writing table. Oh, for God’s sake, Olivia. You’re not supposed to be thinking about him.

  I waited for an hour or so, to be on the safe side. I’d told Bess I was tired and wanted to rest. Will was helping to supervise set building this afternoon. When everyone had gone off to their respective tasks and the house had grown quiet, I approached the double doors separating my room from Jennet’s.

  I called her name and rapped softly a few times before sneaking in, then closed both doors behind me. Jennet’s chamber, smaller than Stephen’s and mine, had the austere aura one might expect for a Puritan girl.

  A twin-size bed with a plain coverlet stood against the back wall, the washstand next to it. A painted cloth depicting a martyrdom in gruesome detail—a Protestant one, no doubt—hung on one wall, and beneath it, a table displayed a book called Foxe’s Book of Martyrs. I fanned the pages, but no papers fell out. Next I searched her wardrobe, quickly riffling through her clothing, all the same unrelenting black and white garments she wore every day. I reached to the back of each shelf and felt around with my fingers, but found nothing.

  I examined her bed as thoroughly as I had Will’s, removing both the mattress and the sheet, but came up empty. Where else to look? There was no desk, nothing on the table but the one book. If Jennet had any secrets, they weren’t to be found here. I was turning to leave when something caught my eye.

  Beside her wardrobe, a small painting of Jesus hung on the wall. Why would a Puritan girl want this in her room? “Papist” was the word that came to mind. I walked over and examined it more closely, but nothing about it jumped out at me. I lifted it off its nail and flipped it over. A piece of foolscap was stuck between the back of the painting and the edge of the frame.

  I paused to listen for any sound of footsteps or voices, but heard nothing. With trembling hands, I unfolded the paper. Bold script crawled across the page. I scanned it rapidly, and it looked as if I’d be able to get the gist.

  Daughter,

  On Thursday next, 20th of April, after yr midday meal, proceed to the alehouse at Riley Green. There you will meet with RL and sheriff to arrange date for arrest of Campion and WS. Do not fail to oblige me in this. You know what will transpire if you do not do yr duty.

  Stunned, I read the words over and over, to make sure I had it right. They knew! They knew Thomas Cook was really Campion. Jennet had figured it out and told Lowry. It must have been after the privy councilors had dined here. If they’d known then, they would have arrested him that night. There was no signature, but Jennet’s father was obviously the writer. Tomorrow was Thursday, April 20. My hands shook as I replaced the note, rehung the painting, and beat a hasty retreat back to my own room.

  I paced, my heart thudding. My first impulse was to go straight to Alexander, but then I remembered he was gone. Given his feelings about “females,” I wasn’t sure he’d believe me, anyway, even if I provided irrefutable evidence.

  I should warn Will, I knew. I should definitely warn Will. But if I did, he’d be obligated to tell Thomas. Then the two of them would ride off into the sunset, never to be heard from again. I couldn’t risk it. I’d have to follow Jennet to the alehouse and listen in on her conversation with the two men. I didn’t know where Riley Green was, but it couldn’t be that far if Jennet had to show up there right after lunch.

  One major obstacle stood in my way. Jennet knew me outright, and both Lowry and the sheriff would recognize me. I felt fury building, aimed directly at Stephen. If he hadn’t left, I wouldn’t be forced to deal with this on my own. We could’ve figured something out together. I kicked the small stool near the fireplace, and it slid approximately five feet. Not worth it for the amount of pain it caused.

  “Ouch! God, that hurt!” I hopped around on one foot, cursing, and only then did I notice that Bess had entered the room through the servants’ door and was standing stock still, watching me.

  “Mistress, is something amiss? Have you injured yourself?”

  I stared at her for a moment, considering whether or not I could enlist her help. She undoubtedly would be familiar with Riley Green and the location of the alehouse. But could I ask her without arousing suspicion? “Nay, Bess, I am fine. I stubbed my toe. And I’m angry with Stephen.” At least that much was true.

  She smiled sympathetically. “If you do not need me, I’ll help in the stillroom.”

  I nodded my permission. As she turned to leave, I blurted out, “Bess, where is Riley Green?”

  “The village?”

  “I guess.” My face went red. “Aye, the village. There’s an alehouse there.”

  “Why, ’tis just at the bottom of the road up to the manor.”

  “Toward Preston?”

  “Nay, the other way.” She shot me a suspicious look. “But you will not go there by yourself, mistress?”

  “Someone mentioned it, and I wondered why I’d not seen it. That’s all.”

  “The alewife and her husband are friends. Even so, young ladies do not … should not—”

  “I would not dream of entering an alehouse unaccompanied.”

  Judging by Bess’s look and warning, I’d have to disguise myself as a young man. Olivia Langford could not enter an alehouse unaccompanied, but Oliver Langford most definitely could. That meant borrowing clothing. Will and I were of similar size, but he had few clothes. I’d have to borrow from Stephen. Doublet, hose, shoes, hat. I had my Uggs, had hidden them away where even Bess hadn’t found them, so I’d wear those and hope nobody would notice their unique look. I thought about raiding the costume trunk for the Corpus Christi play for a fake beard, but that would have been totally over the top.

  I gathered the pieces of my disguise. Good thing Stephen was so vain about his appearance. He had plenty of everything, including several hats to choose from. My boots were exactly where Stephen had told me to hide them, at the bottom of an unused cupboard in the passageway. I stashed everything else in there with them, just in case Bess stuck her nose into my wardrobe. All was ready.

  Edgy and inatte
ntive the following morning, I repeatedly lost my place during pageant rehearsal. Thomas sent me away, saying, “You are unwell, mistress. We shall go on without you.” I breathed a sigh of relief.

  During lunch I said to Jennet, “Shall you help me with my embroidery this afternoon?”

  Her face colored faintly, though not noticeably unless you were expecting it. “Pardon, Olivia, I have promised Cousin Elizabeth I would gather herbs today.”

  I faked disappointment with a frown and sigh. “Very well. Another day, then.”

  I’d told Bess to help Elizabeth in the stillroom again this afternoon. Since she’d been away for so long, they were behind in brewing up their little potions, or whatever it was that went on in that place.

  As soon as Bess left, I began my transformation into a young man. The hose were the biggest challenge. I pulled them all the way up to the tops of my thighs and tied garters around them. No matter how tightly I tied, though, the hose still bagged around my knees and ankles. My boots would cover the worst wrinkles, so I wasn’t too worried. I’d chosen the thickest doublet I could find in Stephen’s wardrobe and left my bodice on underneath to add some bulk. While I pinned my hair up, I stationed myself by the passageway windows. When I saw Jennet walking through the courtyard carrying a basket, I bolted toward the staircase, plopping the hat on as I went and praying I wouldn’t run into anyone.

  Suddenly conscious of the true import of my little scheme, I paused and took a ragged breath. I’d either find out the day and time of the raid—or I’d fail. Worst of all, I might get caught. If I were sent to prison, could Stephen send me back to Boston? Would he even be allowed to visit me? I had no answer, and since I didn’t even know where he was right now, what was the point of speculating? After making a final adjustment to my baggy hose, I headed for the trees.

  Low, feathery clouds rode the sky earlier, but a steady wind had risen and blown them out. It was still windy, but not unpleasant with the sunshine. My plan was to walk through the forest, where the risk of being seen would be less. After what seemed like forever, I spotted the main road. Keeping to the woods, at last I glimpsed the alehouse by the side of the road. Farther on, I could see a few cottages and thatch-roofed huts.

  Now that I’d found the place, my courage was wavering. And then Jennet emerged from around a curve in the road. I ducked behind a large fern, peeking around the fronds. She walked up to the front of the place and, presumably, right through the door. I needed to make my move.

  I stood, brushed myself off, and walked toward the building. When I rounded the corner to the front, I nearly freaked out. There were horses, dogs, and lots of men standing around. Damn! I hadn’t expected a crowd. I tried to put a swagger into my step. Difficult when a bunch of rotten little mongrels were jumping at me and nipping at my ankles. Some of the men snickered, and one of them called to the dogs. I scurried inside, pulling my hat low over my forehead.

  I knew I would have only a moment to size up the situation. If I lingered too long in the doorway, I’d draw attention to myself. After a minute, I saw Jennet and her buddies over in one corner. I walked to a table near them, but not close enough to be obvious.

  The alewife approached me. I lowered my voice an octave, hoping to sound like a teenage boy. “Ahem. A tankard, if you please.”

  She nodded and turned. I should order some food. Less suspicious that way, and eating would keep me occupied. “And, uh, I’m hungry. What’s on the menu?” I smiled up at her, and she shrugged.

  “The usual. Mutton pottage and bread, sir.”

  “Excellent. I’ll have some of that.” Oh, geez. I sounded like I was dining at some fancy restaurant in contemporary London. I felt my cheeks flushing.

  It looked like Jennet and company hadn’t gotten down to business yet. The sheriff and Lowry were scooping pottage into their mouths and mopping up gravy with hunks of bread. There were few other people in the place, and the alewife soon plopped a tankard of ale in front of me. Jennet, I noticed, was neither eating nor drinking. After a minute, the three of them began talking quietly. I’d be lucky to hear anything.

  The sheriff’s strident voice suddenly surprised me. “Mistress Hall, it is not your place to question what we do!”

  I jerked to attention and pricked up my ears.

  “I am simply saying if you get the one you really want, why do you need the other? He can be of no use to you,” Jennet said.

  “You will do as you are told!” The sheriff again, roaring his disapproval at Jennet.

  I scooted my stool slightly sideways so I’d have a partial view of them. Jennet had stood, and Lowry’s hand shot out and grasped her arm. But when he spoke, it was to the sheriff.

  “Restrain yourself, sir! We are in a public place.”

  My food arrived, and I busied myself breaking off a piece of bread and dunking it into the stew. Lowry was speaking to Jennet now. She’d sat down again.

  “We need young Shakespeare to give evidence against the Jesuit at his trial.”

  I couldn’t hear her answer, just bits and pieces of it. Basically, it sounded like she was saying they’d never get Will to cooperate.

  I shoved some food into my mouth and washed it down with the ale. The whole mass landed with a sickening thud in my stomach. They wanted to use Will to testify against Campion! That was why the sheriff had been interested in Will all along.

  “We have ways of persuading, mistress. Your friend will not wish to endanger his family. Or himself, for that matter.” Lowry again.

  I waited, but none of them spoke. Tell them when they’re supposed to come for Shakespeare and Campion! That’s what I really need to know.

  What happened next was so unexpected, so amazing, that I hardly had time to react. The door burst open, and Copernicus came bounding through. He sniffed around for a minute, and then made a beeline for me. Flinging himself at my chest, he licked my face joyfully, nearly knocking me off my stool. Stephen sauntered in and looked around for his dog.

  Stunned, I did nothing for several seconds, just let Copernicus lick and whimper. Then my brain finally kicked into gear. By now, everyone’s eyes, including those of Jennet, Lowry, and the sheriff, were riveted on me. I jumped to my feet and pushed the huge dog away. “Down, boy!” I commanded in my young man’s voice. I threw some coins on the table and rushed out, shoving past Stephen. Heading for the woods at a run, I realized too late that Copernicus was chasing me.

  IN NO TIME, I heard Stephen calling Copernicus. I glanced quickly behind me. He was gaining on me, but I kept on running. I couldn’t risk being seen by Jennet and her pals.

  “Stop!” Stephen yelled.

  I was losing steam fast. When I sensed him right at my heels, I stopped abruptly and spun around. I had a wicked stitch in my side. Bending over, my hands grasping my thighs, I tried to catch my breath.

  “Sir! That is my dog. I only wish to—”

  I rose and pulled the hat off. Stephen stopped speaking in midsentence.

  “Olivia! I might have known. Explain yourself.”

  I gave him the evil eye. “Keep walking with me. That sneaky wench Jennet and her friends Lowry and the sheriff are in the tavern. I can’t let them see me.”

  “By God, they’ve already seen you!”

  “They didn’t recognize me.”

  “Because of that clever disguise you’re wearing? Men’s clothes and a hat.” He took a closer look. “My doublet, no less. And that must be my shirt and hose, too. Aye, you look like a real man, Olivia.”

  I felt like slapping him. “I fooled you, didn’t I? You disappear for days and then have the nerve to question what I’m doing. And what gives you the right to be so … so condescending?”

  He stopped, hands on hips, and watched me. “Forgive me. That was uncalled for. You did indeed fool me.” He smiled his captivating Stephen smile, but I was in no mood to be charmed.

  “I must return for my horse. If I did not, it would look suspicious, although I expect they’ll have fled by the time
I get back.”

  “Fine,” I said.

  “We shall talk later.” He whistled to Copernicus and off they went.

  I made my way back through the thick trees, feeling half sick. I’d missed out on the crucial piece of information—the timing of the raid and the arrest of Shakespeare and Campion. All because Stephen, after disappearing for a week, had chosen this exact moment to show up. And then he’d had the nerve to give me a hard time!

  I decided to enter through the servants’ door to avoid running into Elizabeth or Alexander. Or worst of all, Jennet. As it turned out, I passed a few servants who seemed hardly to notice me. If they wondered who I was or what I was up to, they didn’t ask. It took me a while, but I finally located the stairs leading to my chamber. I closed the passageway doors at both ends and changed back into my own clothes. Seated on my bed, I was pulling pins out of my hair when Stephen tapped on the door and asked if he could come in.

  He didn’t waste any time with small talk. Nor did he bother explaining where he’d been for the last several days. “Would you care to enlighten me as to what you were doing?”

  I tugged the last few pins from my hair and began brushing it out. “Something came up while you were away.” I quit brushing and met his eyes. “A new threat to Shakespeare far more dangerous than anything from the Jesuits. Lowry and the sheriff intend to arrest him along with Campion. They want Will to testify at Campion’s trial, and they’re going to force him into it by threatening his family.”

  “God’s breath! You were right to suspect Jennet. She must have discovered Thomas’s true identity and informed them.”

  I described the note I’d found from Jennet’s father and how that had prompted me to take action. “Because you and Cop came bursting in, I couldn’t stay to find out the one thing we desperately need to know—where and when the arrest will take place.” I glared at him.

  “Great God, is there no end to it? Will one threat after another crop up?”